


milk in my bones

by strawberryeskel



Series: milk in my bones [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Age Play Caregiver Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Age Play Little Jaskier | Dandelion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Breastfeeding, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Head Injury, Injury, Injury Recovery, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Lactation, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Male Lactation, Massage, Mention of spanking, No Incest, No Sex, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nursing, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), alternate universe - littles are known, not a/b/o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryeskel/pseuds/strawberryeskel
Summary: Jaskier is a little, but he doesn't need anyone to know about that, least of all Geralt. He's sure that the Witcher will want nothing to do with him if he ever finds out.*Geralt kept looking down at him, marveling at the fact that he had a little now. It wasn’t something he’d been looking for, since he knew life on the Path could be difficult for a little, but he realized that he wouldn’t trade Jaskier for anything in the world.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: milk in my bones [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145234
Comments: 47
Kudos: 212





	milk in my bones

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** mind the tags. Everything in this fanfiction is consensual.
> 
> Hi guys!  
> This is another Witcher age play AU that suddenly came to me fully formed, so here it is (while I should've been studying for my finals, again, but well). It's a bit different than my other fics and I know that this isn't for everyone.
> 
> This doesn't even make that much sense to me, so anyways here it goes: this is a littles are known AU, where caregivers and littles are biologically classified. Some caregivers (like Geralt here) can breastfeed, though not all, and they're also somewhat more protective/ possessive o their littles. Geralt is also super possessive because his Witcher mutations enhanced his senses, including his sense of nurturing and protection. And, well, he's Geralt, so there's that.  
> The beginning is also kind of similar to episode 1 of the Netflix show, because I couldn't really think of another situation where Jaskier would be (not seriously) hurt by a monster.
> 
> Basically this was my excuse for writing super overprotective papa bear Geralt, but with breastfeeding (becasue it's _my_ fic and I'll write what I want lol). No, I don't 100% know how Geralt's biology works in this, either.
> 
> Anyways if you have any suggestions/ reviews/ ideas/ constructive criticism, it would be very appreciated. Also let me know if you think I should maybe expand this AU sometime? I don't know yet.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Jaskier crept forwards into the small clearing surrounding a dark colored lake. He passed Roach, whose reins were tied to the branch of a nearby tree, stroking a hand along her snout as she neighed softly. He knew Geralt mustn’t have been far if he left Roach here, and he was almost certain that there was a weird sound coming from the depths of the lake. He was certain Geralt would be furious if he’d discovered he’d followed him, but at least he’d had a good reason to do so (or so Jaskier kept telling himself). The truth is, he was bored. The inn they’d rented a room at that morning was mostly empty since it was only midday, so Jaskier didn’t really have anyone to perform for, and after wandering around town for a bit he decided he should probably see what Geralt was up to. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t actually know, since he’d been with the Witcher when he spotted the advertisement about a kikimora in the swampy woods nearby, but he wanted to see, even though Geralt had expressly told him to wait for him at the inn. It wasn’t even that he wanted to gather more information for a new song, like it had been the case on the few previous occasions he’d crept after while he was Geralt on one of his contracts, but he was _curious_. He’d been feeling smaller and smaller since the previous day. He’d tried to ignore it at first, but now he felt completely engulfed by it. Had he been in the right state of mind, Jaskier might have realized that this was a very dangerous thing for him to do, following Geralt into danger notwithstanding, but if the older man discovered that he was like this, it would undoubtedly ruin their friendship. Geralt had hardly wanted to allow the bard to travel with him in the first place, but if he found out he was little, Jaskier was sure the Witcher would get rid of him without a moment’s notice. Geralt wouldn’t want to have a freak like him trailing about after him, in any case.

Jaskier was, of course, currently too engrossed with his curiosity in order to fully process these thoughts and realize he should probably head back to the inn while there was still a chance for Geralt not to find out that he’d gone after him. It was too late for that now, though, because as soon as Jaskier noticed an undulating murmur on the surface of the water, he walked closer, kneeling next to edge of the lake and watching the dark water gently swirling about. For a moment, he could even see his own reflection staring back at him from the water, his lips slightly parted and his eyes big and curious.

A moment later, however, all of it disappeared, because a great spider-like creature emerged from the lake, letting out an agonized scream as Geralt shoved his silver sword through its head. While it was rising out of the water, the dying kikimora had been widely flailing its legs, one of them hitting Jaskier right in the chest. The bard fell backwards, letting out a cry as he felt murky water soaking his clothes and getting into his mouth, the bitter taste making him choke and gag. He fell backwards, hitting his head on the hard soil. He didn’t break anything, he could tell through the haze of panic, but a headache was starting to overcome him as his vision was getting blurrier and blurrier. 

_“Jaskier?”_ he heard Geralt shouting a moment later, not long before he felt the other man kneel down next to him, “What the _fuck_ are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to stay-“

Geralt stopped short at that, hearing Jaskier let out a small whimper that he otherwise might have missed if not for his enhanced senses. He frowned, moving closer to the other man and sniffling the air slightly. Geralt’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead as realization finally dawned upon him.

“You’re… _little?_ ” he asked, his voice instantly softening, hesitantly cupping the side of Jaskier’s face with a hand, as gently as possible.

“I… “ Jaskier let out another whimper, unable to form any coherent thought as his vision continued to rapidly darken. He could vaguely hear Geralt saying something else that he couldn’t understand, and the Witcher’s blurry, concerned face was the last thing he remembered seeing before his vision darkened.

* * *

When he awoke, the first thing Jaskier became aware of was an encompassing feeling of _safety._ He was lying in a fetal position against someone’s chest and he was instinctually, rhythmically sucking on something as he was being fed something that tasted somewhat like milk, except it was creamier and sweeter.

Jaskier slowly opened his eyes, jumping back in shock a moment later when he realized that the person who’d been holding him was Geralt, and that he’d been _breastfeeding_ him. He choked on the remaining milk in his mouth, unsuccessfully trying to scramble away due to one of Geralt’s large arms, firmly holding him by the waist. Jaskier continued coughing, the milk he’d choked on burning his throat, when suddenly Geralt maneuvered him so that their chests were lying flush against one another, Jaskier’s head over Geralt’s shoulder as the Witcher began to rhythmically pat his back with firm but not harsh movements.

That _did_ help Jaskier, because a few moments later his coughing has subsided, and he was pulled back in his initial position, propped up sideways against the Witcher’s chest, except this time a mug of cold water was brought to his lips. Jaskier accepted it eagerly, draining almost half of it in one drink.

“Easy,” Geralt rumbled from above him, grabbing the bottom of the mug with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around the bard’s middle in an attempt to slow him down.

Jaskier did slow down before taking another big gulp of water and pushing the mug aside, which Geralt deposited on the side table next to the bed they were lying in. They were back at the inn, Jaskier realized, and looking out the window that was in front of him, he noticed that the sun was just beginning to set. He has a slight headache and he was aware of a soreness in his chest, and when he looked down Jaskier noticed a large bruise that was beginning to form there, but it was already covered in some kind of white, minty – smelling salve. He also noticed that he was completely naked save from a cloth diaper pinned around his waist, one that he thankfully hadn’t used. 

Regaining his awareness of the situation he was currently in, the young man tried to scramble away once more, but Geralt’s firm arm around his torso prevented him from doing so again.

“No sudden movements,” the Witcher said, sounding somewhat… _stern?_ “You don’t have a concussion, but you still hit your head, so you need to be careful.”

Jaskier dared to look up at him at that, wondering why Geralt wasn’t pushing him away as he’d expected him to, but instead he was… _caring for him?_ Jaskier didn’t quite know what was going on, and even though he’d spent so much of his life suppressing his little side, he couldn’t deny that this felt sort of… nice, _safe,_ to have someone care for him like this, even though he couldn’t currently fully comprehend everything that was happening.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me; that you’re little?” Geralt asked after a moment’s silence. He didn’t sound or look angry, but rather concerned, and his bright golden eyes were glued intently to the younger man who was currently seated on his lap. 

“I- I didn’t want you to leave me, or hate me,” Jaskier answered quietly, looking down, “I figured you wouldn’t want someone like me following you around all the time.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, gently grabbing his chin and tilting his head upwards, “why would I ever think that?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

“M’a freak,” he mumbled, not meeting the Witcher’s eyes, “everyone says that.”

“You’re not,” Geralt answered definitively, without missing a beat, “no one in their right mind would think that.”

“Well, I’ve known for some time that my family aren’t in their right mind,” he mumbled, and Geralt felt a flash of anger rising in his chest at hearing that. His family, the ones who were supposed to care for him, had made his baby feel so… _worthless._

“You need a caregiver,” Geralt said after a moment of silence, forcing his anger down. “Have you ever had one?”

“No, I was supposed to… grow out of it, I suppose,” Jaskier said, and Geralt let out a low growl at that. Jaskier startled, jumping up, and Geralt immediately softened. He pulled Jaskier close to his chest, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin and rocking him slightly.

“Shh, it’s ok”, he said, rubbing his back a little, “I’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t… have to,” the bard trailed off, somewhat confused. Then again, he hadn’t had the slightest idea that Geralt was a caregiver, either, and he knew that some biologically classified caregivers could be somewhat… _protective,_ especially those who were capable of nursing littles.

“I want to,” he rumbled, “I would’ve done so sooner if I’d known you were a little.”

“I… ok,” Jaskier said after a minute of silence. It wasn’t like he could just refuse the Witcher, and there was a small part of him that didn’t even want to do that. Jaskier didn’t think that Geralt wouldn’t be good with him, but he’d grown rather used to repressing his little side, and everything felt really unfamiliar right now.

“Come on, let’s clean you up,” Geralt said a moment later, standing up from the bed and maneuvering Jaskier onto his hip. He was still only dressed the diaper and nothing else, Jaskier realized, flushing.

“I don’t need diapers,” he blurted out as Geralt carried him towards a tub full of water situated in the corner of the room. The Witcher cast a sign on the water, making it heat up instantly. He bent down and tested the temperature with his fingers before somehow managing to take Jaskier’s diaper off with only one hand.

Before he even knew what was happening, Jaskier had already been undressed and placed into the tub of hot water. He sputtered for a bit, realizing that he’d been left naked in front of Geralt.

“Who do you think changed you earlier?” the WItcher asked, noticing his outrage.

Jaskier flushed even brighter at that before sulkily repeating his earlier statement, “I don’t need diapers.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said, “you don’t have to wear them all the time. Only if you’re really small, or if you have an accident.”

“I don’t want to,” Jaskier said, making a face.

_“Jaskier,”_ Geralt scolded warningly, and the boy had the sense to stop protesting (for now). He felt a strange need to listen to the older man, he realized, it was almost like he instinctually knew that Geralt was supposed to be the one to take care of him.

“Lean back,” the older man said a moment later, having grabbed a large jug that he filled with water from the tub. The bard did as he was told, and he felt Geralt shielding his eyes with one hand before pouring warm water over his head. Then, the Witcher grabbed a bar of soap, gently but thoroughly starting to wash Jaskier’s hair with it.

Geralt rinsed his hair using the jug before grabbing a washcloth and proceeding to scrub the rest of his body clean. His touches were soft even though they were thorough, but Jaskier still found himself wincing when his caregiver passed the cloth over his bruising chest.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen,” Geralt said, though there wasn’t any heat to it.

“How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?” he asked, and Geralt stopped washing him for a moment, fixing him with a stern, unimpressed stare.

“You were _supposed_ to stay put like I asked you to, young man. And you will be punished if you ever disobey like that again,” Geralt continued, picking up the washcloth and beginning to wash his shoulders and back, “you’re lucky I’m not putting you over my knee right now for the stunt you’ve just pulled.”

“You can’t do that!” Jaskier protested, turning his head to glare at him “I’m an adult!”

“Don’t move your head so quickly,” Geralt reprimanded, and he was right, since Jaskier’s headache had flared to life from the sudden movement, “and you’re my little, which means that I’m going to discipline you if you misbehave,” he added.

Before Jaskier had the chance to think of a reply, Geralt had already moved to washing his bum and privates, which made him blush hotter than he even thought was possible.

“I can do it by myself,” Jaskier said, squeakily.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, raising his brows at him but not answering. He’d already finished cleaning him in a few seconds, though, because now he was already going down his legs.

Soon, Jaskier’s bath was finished, and after Geralt had dried him off, he deposited him back on the bed, this time lying on his back. Before he could even think to ask what was going on, Jaskier felt Geralt start to rub something liquidly and nicely smelling on one of his calves, and when he looked down he saw that the man had placed a bottle of some sort of oil ( _where_ had he even gotten that?) down next to him, and he was now massaging it into his skin.

Jaskier whined, kicking his legs instinctively as the older man continued to massage his legs. It _did_ feel sort of nice, but part of him felt like he shouldn’t be enjoying it.

“Hush,” Geralt said, continuing to rhythmically rub the oil into his skin. He’d already reached his torso, continuing to massage his body using soothing, circular motions. Just like during bath time, Geralt massaged his bottom and around his privates as well, yet his touches weren’t sexual, and he paid special attention to be gentle around his injured chest.

Although Jaskier didn’t want to admit it, he felt his body going lax and heavy, the Witcher’s repetitive, soothing touches making him relaxed and more than a little sleepy. 

Soon, Geralt finished massaging his arms as well, and Jaskier whined again, this time at the loss of his comforting touches. Geralt brushed a gentle thumb over his cheek at that, before leaving his side for a few moments, returning with a jar that had a whitish paste in it.

He took some of the paste on his fingers and started spreading it over the little’s chest, and Jaskier recognized it as the minty salve he’d had on when he awoke earlier. Although Geralt was careful and his touches were as light as possible, Jaskier’s chest was still sore, and he let out a whimper once the man had reached a particularly sensitive spot.

“Shhh, I know,” the Witcher murmured, continuing to apply the medicine, “try to stay still, yeah? I’m almost done.”

“Good boy,” Geralt said once he’d finished applying the salve, stroking Jaskier’s hair back before leaving his side again.

After putting the jar away, Geralt returned with the clean diaper the boy had been wearing earlier, grabbing both of his ankles in one large hand, lifting his legs and slipping the thick piece of cloth under his bum in one quick, smooth movement.

“ _Hey! No!_ I don’t need that!” Jaskier whined, trashing around in order to get free. 

“Sit still,” Geralt said, giving him a firm tap on the side of his thigh. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to get the little to stop squirming long enough so that Geralt could finish pinning his diaper in place.

“You said I wouldn’t have to wear it all the time,” the boy sulked, crossing his arms over his chest, which Geralt privately though was very adorable.

“You have to when you’re small like this,” the Witcher said, “which you haven’t been in some time, apparently. But you don’t have to use it.”

Jaskier grumbled a bit at that but didn’t say anything when he noticed Geralt looking sternly down at him, brow raised. 

“Is your head hurting still?” the older man asked then, and Jaskier nodded. Geralt turned around again, rummaging through his potions bag and retrieving a small vial filled with a reddish, viscous looking liquid. He went back towards the bed, helping Jaskier sit up before settling down next to him, his back propped against the headboard. 

Geralt reached out, pulling Jaskier to sit sideways on his lap, just as he’d been sitting when he’d woken up. Then, he took the cork out of the vial before bringing it close to the other man’s lips.

“Drink it all,” he said, and Jaskier did as he was told, making a disgusted face all throughout. 

"That was horrible,” he commented.

“And good for you,” his caregiver added, “it might make you sleepier, but that’s alright. You need to rest anyways.”

Geralt kept looking down at him for a minute, marveling at the fact that he had a little now. It wasn’t something he’d been looking for, since he knew life on the Path could be hard for a little, but he realized now, as his nurturing senses were enabled, that he wouldn’t trade Jaskier for anything in the world. The bard had been his friend, even before, but now he was Geralt’s to love and care for and keep safe, and his heart swelled in his chest just by looking at him. He reached out, with one hand, gently carding his fingers through the boy’s still damp locks before gently guiding his head forwards, towards his still bare chest, his mouth near one of his nipples.

Jaskier was startled at that, looking at him with wide, questioning blue eyes. 

“It’s ok,” Geralt said, knowing that nursing might be somewhat difficult, at least in the beginning, considering what Jaskier had been taught to think about his status as a little, “just latch on,” he added, once again guiding the younger man’s head closer to his breast. 

Although it was probably due to the fact that Jaskier was already very tired, Geralt was still surprised to feel him latching onto his nipple without protest. The Witcher kept stroking his hair, and soon he felt Jaskier giving his nipple a tentative suck, milk immediately flowing into his mouth.

“Good boy,” Geralt rumbled a few seconds later, when Jaskier had begun suckling rhythmically, his eyes half closed already. He bent his head down, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead and quietly watching him nurse for a few more minutes. Jaskier’s head soon began to progressively lean more and more against the older man’s chest, and before long he was asleep, feeling safer than he ever had before.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Prompts, suggestions and constructive criticism are all very appreciated <3 
> 
> Please let me know if you'd like me to continue this AU or if you have any ideas.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr @strawberryeskel if you want to request/ prompt something or just to chat :)


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